Chapter 186: Blessed Blade
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The battle lasted for a full hour. The Golden Crawler army, which was responsible for attacking the Wind Howler Clan, had long stopped firing in front of the storm, and they just kept pushing forward with their shields held high.
With the passage of time. Wind howling counterattack more and more pale and feeble, the pounding rain of arrows, more and more sparse. Howling gale, but also more and more weak and monotonous.
"The opponent has few arrows left, constantly maintaining this level of storm, those warlocks' spell bits, it is estimated that they are also consumed. The people in front! Pull back! Reserve team, prepare to attack! No bows and arrows, no ammunition for those traitors! For the sake of the Supreme King! Charge!!!"
Seeing that the time had come, Uldin blew the horn of war. The Golden Crawlers, who had been fighting at the front line, methodically retreated backwards. And the soldiers who had been resting in the rear, resting their strength, straightened their studded leather armor, raised their spears and shields, and led by some nobles in chainmail, in the shadow of a great golden banner, raised their voices to the sky!
"AlanNure Chosen Descendants of God!!!"
---------- ------
"Teacher! Our spell source is almost depleted! The garrisons can't hold out!"
Inside the courtyard, several sweaty, nearly deflated horses and men were limp on top of the dirt. Their white robes, completely drenched in sweat, sticky and sticky on top of their skin. Soybean-sized beads of sweat, along with wet hair, slowly dripping to the ground.
"We're all going to die here."
Chief Warlock Orakil, leaning on a giant five-foot-long sword, calmly stated the gruesome truth to his warlock students.
"The storm heralded the death of Maed, and most of the warlocks who went with her have already returned in spirit to the Court of the King of Enjoyment, the side of our gods. And we, too, are about to join them. Enjoy the joy of the eternal scar in the halls of Skerritt."
"But until then."
Orakil's turn of phrase, the crazy howling storm airflow, along with the clouds of thunder and lightning, instantly wrapped around the sword's body, so that the five-foot-long ghastly sword, into a let the bravest warriors, are chilled by the killing blade.
"We will make the murderer of the Golden Crawl pay for this betrayal! We will make Toria's minions suffer the pain and despair that the Chief has experienced! We will die in battle in our own homeland with honor! And then straighten our chests and tell the great chief himself what a terrible price those golden scumbags paid to kill us! We are worthy of the name of Wind Howl until the moment of our death!!!"
"Let the small dregs of the earth go up in smoke in the gale!!!"
Looking at the Golden Crawler soldiers who stepped on the corpses of the Wind Howler soldiers and stormed into the courtyard with great strides, Orakil, whose spell space was empty, braced his weak body and let out a furious battle cry. He pushed the great sword called Thunder's Fury, fast forward, sharp sword tip, on the stone slab rubbed out a brilliant sparks.
The gold-treaded soldier who led the charge into the hall, thrust out his spear with force against the chief warlock of the wind howl. The sharp tip of the spear, however, hit an invisible spell barrier and could not break through the force field of that arcane spell.
Orakil's hands jabbed and lifted, and the tip of the sword, which had been rubbing the ground, instantly moved under the soldier's hooves, and then, cut a bloody arc upwards! The blade, entwined with gale and thunder, blessed by elemental creatures, slashed the enemy's armpit and easily chopped off his right arm, leaving the severed limb, which was grasping the spear, to fall in a bloody pirouette into the dust.
"BOOM!!!"
The chief warlock waved his hands, the blood-stained sword hanging high above his head, chopped down again, following the enemy's unsuspecting right side, chopping and slicing like a melon, slicing the opponent's flesh and skin, and nerve bones, chopping off half of his body in one breath! The shattered ribs and internal organs, along with the gushing blood, stained the courtyard door.
The soldier, the flesh and blood touched by the sword, as if by thunder directly, like a charcoal general, turning black, fragile, the breeze blew, it will be hundreds of tiny black crumbs, fluttering with the wind.
"Ashes to ashes! Scum!"
"AlanNure Skerritt!!!"
The most powerful and wise warlocks in the clan were seen fighting bravely even after their spells were exhausted. The wind howling warlocks, dressed in cloth, rekindled their fighting spirit, without spells and arrows, they wielded spears, swords, riding on the mage armor has not yet faded, one shouted the great name of the gods, and the invasion of the home of the golden crawler, launched a duel to the death!
In the face of the brave soldiers of the Golden Crawler, the warlock, who is not good at close combat, soon fell behind and could only rely on favorable terrain and retreat, while Orakil was like a raging tornado, all around him were broken flesh and blood!
No one dared to approach his side. The blessed blade in the chief warlock's hand, accompanied by the fury of the wind and thunder, opened wide, and even the strong locking armor would be cut with a gaping hole by the sharp and heavy blade, unable to withstand a second chopping blow. And some of the feathered vectors shot by the composite longbow, but also only in the invisible arcane force field, hitting a ripple.
"Charge! Charge! Charge! Whoever can kill that chief warlock, I'll give him and that centaur's head, equal weight in gold!"
Uldin stood at the end of the group, directing this siege. Under his command, the Golden Crawler soldiers slowly compressed the survival space of Wind Howl. Along with the consumption of spells and arrows, the damage of the opponent was slowly expanding.
The scales of victory are tipping in the direction of the golden crawler.
Watching the situation improve, the gold tracked nobleman revealed a satisfied smile. Even if the Blood Fury clan defeated Sandra's Thunder Spear, it must have been greatly wounded, and the chief ------ no, now she should be called the Supreme King. The Supreme King is surrounded by four clans: the Golden Crawler, the Grey Mane, the Dead Bone, and the Poetic Dead! The chiefs of Poison Bite and Tasmal were also captured, and then kill some hardliners, the subjugation of their people, and only a matter of time.
And their own as the great general of God's chosen descendants, when the identity must rise, embracing three or four young and beautiful mares, looking at the cattle and sheep belonging to them, roaming the hills ------
"Hiss..."
Suddenly, a harsh and piercing shrill sounded beside Uldin. Several irregular dark green solids, emitting a dark green dense poisonous clouds, a horrible wave of air, instantly swallowed him and those soldiers who withdrew down and exhausted their strength, completely! The feathered vector that covered the sky, also like a majestic rain, hit hard behind them, blossoming into a wave of blood!
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Chapter 187: The three tribes meet
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The Golden Crawlers who had stayed behind to recuperate had fought against the storm and arrows for several hours, and they were already exhausted and resting on the ground in disarray. At this moment, they were suddenly covered by the dense poisonous fog and the majestic arrow rain, and immediately collapsed into an army, coughing blood, crying, wailing, accompanied by the chaotic and noisy sound of horses' hooves, resounding through the clouds.
"No running! Formation! Meet the enemy! You bastards! We're about to win! We're about to wipe out those half-centaur, half-elemental wind howling bastards!"
Uldin hastily raised his shield, and in a flash, dozens of sharp feathered arrows, like rain, struck the surface of the Iris shield, shaking the gold-treaded nobleman's left arm numb. He held back the pain and discomfort from the poisoning and threw the spear in his hand, precisely penetrating the back of a deserter's heart. Warm blood splashed all over the six limbs of the nearby men and horses.
"There is no room for deserters in the Golden Crawlers! Only death awaits the coward! Instead, the brave are greeted with mountains of sheep and cattle, and mountains of gold and silver! Ahem! Come back to me, all of you! Otherwise, I swear, you will die even more miserably than he did!"
"See that guy in the lockets? He's well-equipped, the biggest block, and keeps yelling. Mostly the general of the Golden Crawler! Marauders! Concentrate your fire!"
Uldin suppressed the routed soldiers and relied on the terrain, barely organizing a defense, but this also revealed his commander's identity. The mixed army of Black Fangs and Poison Bites had opened their bows and arrows and unleashed their boundless fury on him! Hundreds and thousands of sharp arrows destroyed the shield, which was filled with feathers, completely, and the dense clusters of arrows resembled a whistling swarm of locusts, leaving nothing but a mess wherever they passed.
Looking at the commander like a scarlet hedgehog, he fell in a pool of blood. The morale of the soldiers, completely fell to the bottom, screaming and fleeing in all directions!
The Poison Bite army was also exhausted after a long battle. However, these cornered men and horses burst out with fearsome strength as they gritted their teeth and continued to fight.
Those golden crawlers can escape, can be routed. What awaits them, at best, is Toria's flogging and chastisement. In times of war, the Supreme King does not easily execute soldiers. However, if the poisonous bite stops here, waiting for them, only death.
A horse and man clad in black robes, covering their mouths and noses with cloth, wielding two short spears, rushed out of the dark green poisonous cloud under the shadow of the roiling feathered vector, they let out a fearless war cry as fierce and bloodthirsty as a beast, and rushed into the wide alleyway. They rammed into the rear of the attacking troops of the Golden Crawlers!
A tapered short spear, penetrating the supple leather armor, tearing, tearing the inner organs of the throat of the golden crawler. A ghastly wave of scarlet color stained the dark, deadly fangs. Sigrid, who had just come of age and had little combat experience, joined the fight surrounded by a group of gendarmes, and she tremblingly drew her mother's black bow, letting a deadly sharp arrow, nail the enemy's throat.
"Hmm?"
The wind howler warlocks raised their eyebrows in confusion, and in the midst of the bloody battle, they heard a third war cry, and the formation of the gold crawler soldiers before them, began to crumble and falter.
Although he did not know what was happening, Orakil brandished the huge sword in his hand, roaring the name of Skerritt, and charged forward, the blessed blade entwined with storms and thunder, like a windmill in a wheat field, spinning wildly among the enemy army, emitting a howl of fierce wind. Where the blade passed, there were broken flesh and limbs, and dripping blood flying in the sky.
Jin Cui was trapped within the alleyway, and the huge army was trapped in the belly and back. The advantage of numbers could not be used at all. In front of them was the Orakil, who manipulated the gale and thunder and roared loudly, and behind them were the black gendarmes who were cruel and ruthless, like bloodthirsty beasts. Two clans, constantly compressing their survival space. The golden crawler in the middle felt like his bones, were going to be squeezed by the fellow soldiers beside him!
Not only that, the poisonous bite is also behind the black fang, shooting out a sharp arrow emitting a light green color. The golden crawler soldier can't dodge, can only watch those hardened poison arrows, in their pupils bigger and bigger.
Some of the wounded soldiers, with their feet weak, fell to the ground with a miserable scream. Then, the position he vacated was immediately crowded by his fellow soldiers, and there was no more space that could accommodate him to get up. Countless hard hoofs trampled on her huge body, and the sunlight was blocked by the dense, huddled flesh and blood. The air around him, more and more dirty and sparse.
Many, instead of dying at the hands of the enemy or under the hooves of their fellow soldiers, were smothered alive in the midst of the crowd.
I don't know how long it took, the entire street of gold crawlers, in the back of the disadvantage of the enemy, all died. After killing the last enemy soldier, Orakil, who was bathed in blood, and Sigrid, who was surrounded by a group of fangs, trampled over the piles of corpses and finally saw each other's heroic appearance.
"Diodosia can't stay, fellow wind howlers. Quickly! Take advantage of Toria's lack of reaction and let's go north! To Skerritt's Flare. Join forces with the Blood Fury Clan, and there is still hope for everyone to take revenge on the Golden Crawler!"
Sigrid held back her discomfort, and, with great generosity, stretched out her clean little hand, and the chief warlock's palm, which was covered with blood, clasped together.
"Fighting hand in hand with Peinhers? That's a good note too. It's just that ------"
Orakil wearily put down the huge sword in his hand, looking around at the mountain of corpses and blood. In order to protect the caster, the marauders and warriors in the clan, died and were wounded under the attack of the golden crawler, what remained, only two hundred storm warriors.
The chief warlock's resolute face revealed a bitter smile. Once upon a time, Wind Howl was also a strong clan sitting on a population of two thousand. Now, but by the sudden betrayal of the golden crawler, beaten ten not to survive. The bodies of the colt and the old man were spread over every corner of the courtyard.
"You see."
Sigrid and the black fangs under her command lifted their pitch-black cloaks. Their armor was painted with a terrifying totem of a bloodbowl.
"The black fanged totem? Weren't you guys disbanded and divided up?" Orakil asked, puzzled.
"But Pinehurst respected our culture, our beliefs. He allowed us to continue to use the clan's totem, he was impartial, rewarded and punished, and established a complete system of laws that allowed the entire clan to flourish and prosper! Thousands of people who have surrendered to Bloodrage. All were willing to fight in blood in the system he established.
I understand your concerns. In fact, all the black fangs are still under my command. Although named [Hundred], I still exercise the rights of the Black Fang Chief! It's just a matter of obeying his orders. Behold, your warlock is so powerful that with the power of thunder and storm, he stubbornly fought against several times the golden crawlers, and even gained the upper hand at one point! Believe me, Clan Bloodfury, will not deprive you of your rights and tear apart your people."
"I don't have any other choice, do I?" Orakil looked up to the sky and sighed.
"It was a pleasure to work side by side with you."
The three leaders signed a temporary covenant on top of a mountain of corpses and blood. At this time, several eagles, covered in blood, also waved their tattered feathers and landed wobbly on the ground. The dark feathers. Slowly shrink back into the flesh and blood, small physique, soaring into a horse up to seven feet tall, weighing a ton of half-man half-horse.
"What's going on? Why are you guys covered in blood? Where are the others?"
Putrese opened her mouth to inquire, these people, the druids of Poison Bite and Black Fang. Disguised as eagles to scout the sky for information. However, when they set out, there were forty-two of them. When they returned, only half of them were left.
"Hey, don't mention it, the sky was full of gold-treaded eagles! We were recognized by the gold-treaded druids and it was a bloody battle - there were so many of them that we fought tooth and nail to get back."
The druid, who was in the lead, used his palm to smear the blood off his face. Angrily, he said.
"The Tasmar clan has surrendered, and now the streets are filled with only scattered, rebellious people against Tolya's rule. We won't gain many allies by going to rescue those people, but we'll waste too much time, and it's simply not worth the loss! Let's go! Several Golden Crawler armies are already heading back to the gates! Toria's forbidden army is also slowly recovering! If we don't leave, we're all going to die here!"
"Which city gate is weaker in defense?" Orakil panted. He was leaning on the huge sword as a crutch. The four slender and robust hooves of the horse, all trembling gently from exhaustion and weakness
"It's all very strong."
The druid said helplessly. "The east and west gates are guarded by two gold-treaded generals, and the north gate? Where Gorel is cooped up with all her grey maned cubs, waiting for us to take the bait."
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Chapter 188: Pincer Attack
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With the battle commander's death, along with the destruction of the two main forces. The remaining soldiers of the Golden Crawlers who participated in the siege completely lost their will to fight amidst the battle roar mixed with three different voices, they screamed, wailed, cried, and scattered as birds and beasts.
The wind howling clan recaptured their own storehouse and generously distributed the accumulated grain, provisions and provisions to their two allies. Everyone quickly slaughtered the captive livestock, directly swallowed the bloody raw meat of the cattle and sheep, quickly restored the body's energy, replenished the arrows and ammunition, with the food and provisions for the north, and then picked up some light and valuable things, stuffed into the travel bag.
As for the rest of those things that could not be taken away, simply a fire burned to the ground - Orakil would rather burn the clan's possessions to the ground than let them fall into the hands of the chosen descendants of God.
Take advantage of this moment, the poisonous bite of the man horse and make a large pot of yellowish unknown liquid, let the wind howl with the cloth soaked in the liquid, covering his mouth and nose.
---------- ------
Diodosia - North Gate
"Here it comes!"
Gorel's calm eyes shone with arrogance. The buildings near the city gates were burned to the ground by the wolves back in the second battle of Diodosia. Centaurs have too much to do and no shortage of shelter, so there has been no energy, to rebuild these remote houses.
Right now, this open clearing is perfect for a traitor's grave.
Watch as three different decorated banners, accompanied by the earth-shattering vibrations of horses' hooves, fly closer to this side. The gray-maned soldiers wearing Roman standard equipment, under the big banner of gray falcons, prepared for battle. They relied on the inner side of the city wall and arranged themselves into an arc-shaped dense gun formation, guarding the gates to death. Inside the line, countless soldiers even had their arrows on the strings, ready to shoot a dense rain of arrows.
"Woo-oo-oo-"
Both sides blew the war horn at the same time, a stone throwing rope, spinning at high speed in the hands of the poison bite soldiers, emitting a harsh and piercing whistling sound. The poison loaded in the beast's skin traced a dark green eerie arc in the air, making a dense poison cloud, as if death had descended on the material plane. The tumbling waves of air instantly engulfed the entire city gate! Immediately after that, there was an overwhelming rain of dense arrows!
Release poisonous fog, arrow rain wash, cluster charge. Once does not work twice, a thousand is not enough for two thousand! This, is the tactical thinking of the poison bite clan inherited for a hundred years.
However, the arc formation set up by Gorel was merely a bait to hook the enemy. With two consecutive clashes, information about the poisonous bite and black fang had spread throughout the city through the forbidden troops, routed soldiers, and druids of the Golden Crawl.
As soon as the ropes loaded with highly poisonous projectiles began to rotate, the gray-maned horses in defensive formation raised their riding spears flat and charged forward. They abandoned the defensive work of the city gates and directly killed the exhausted allied troops. Only the unlucky ones who were at the end of the line and did not run fast enough inhaled the horrible poisonous mist, and all six limbs were trembling gently, bending down and coughing out a string of crimson blood.
"Use the Anicus war chief and teach our strategy!"
Gorel growled loudly. As a former foreign cavalryman of the Roman Empire, the gray-maned centaur, under the perennial ear, from humans and elves, has learned a lot of new tricks.
Only to see, two groups of about 500 men in size. The heavy cavalry, all clad in Roman chain mail and tall and sturdy, formed two sharp conical lines, and they raised their Cantos mounted lances, one left and one right, trying to cut through the two flanks of the allied army, while in the center, more than a thousand lightly armed men wielding large spears and shields, advanced neatly.
More than forty druids with golden crawls and gray manes, moreover, transformed into terrifying falcons, casting the shadows of their wings, into the shadows of the allied forces!
"The other side is exhausted! Charge! Charge! Charge!!!"
The young and vigorous Gorel Chief, still standing at the forefront of the conical formation, led the charge. The four slender and well-proportioned hooves of the horses turned into a streak that could not be captured by the naked eye, and the banner tied to the riding spear, hunting in the whistling of the gale!
The exhausted and scarred Poison Bite Centaur, also roaring the name of his clan, raised the spear in his hand and charged towards Gorel's heavily armored troops. However, the spear in his hand was less than two meters. The Roman cavalry's standard riding spear, on the other hand, was four meters long.
"Pfft!"
With the ghastly sound of steel rubbing against flesh and blood, the sharp riding spear, ripped and penetrated the throat of the poisonous bite, and the crimson blood, splashed all over the face of Gorel. The soldier who rushed in the forefront, staggered backwards should fall down. The huge corpse tripped over the friendly troops who were caught off guard behind them, and the men further back had to slow down, halting the momentum of the Poison Bite charge.
And the chief of the gray mane does not lose speed, she loosens the riding spear in her hand, draws the kite shield behind her, with the battle axe at her waist, the hard hoof, trampling on the corpses of her fellow clansmen, continues to charge forward!
"For the Chief!"
The assault troops that accompanied Gorel also shouted a somewhat Romanized war cry and killed the army of poison bites. A sharp and slender riding spear, with the help of the invincible charge of men and horses, tore and penetrated the enemy's **, reaping and slaughtering the enemy's life.
The charge ended, by these elites clad in heavy armor, immediately pulled out their battle axes that saved iron ore resources and had excellent armor breaking ability, with huge kite shields. They raised their shields high, protected their bodies, and rammed into the enemy group fiercely! Then, wielding their powerful hand axes, as if destroying, they tore a bloody rift in the middle of the allied battle line!
A short axe constantly raised, falling, axe blade on the blood, more and more, the horror of the battle roar, but also more and more loud and clear!
"Boom! Boom! Boom!!!"
The druids soaring in the sky, praying for the power of the gods, unleashed searing fire, and roaring thunder towards the men and horses on the ground. Cooperate with two assault troops clad in heavy armor to fight. Searing flames, burning the clothing and armor of the horses, hideous thunder, paralyzing the enemy's flesh and blood tendons. Let the enemy more and more confused, two heavy armor assault troops, wildly wielding sharp axes, so that the shield and armor fragments, along with a broken limbs and arms, and dripping blood floating in the sky!
In the druid's spell bombardment, the left and right flanks of the shocking heavy horsemen, did not take too much time to kill directly through the two flanks of the coalition army, in the wake, leaving the ground full of bloody corpses.
"Tsk - although it's a paid job, although, I've long since adapted to the brutal battlefield, but the feeling of slaughtering your own countrymen ------ hell! Don't be so weak! The war is not over!"
Gorel trembled and wiped away the blood on her face. In the old days, she could fight all kinds of monsters for the gold of the Romans, cut off their heads and drink the blood of her enemies. As long as the price is right, she can also go to the slaughter of innocent civilians, the entire village will be torched. For those moral hypocrites, do all kinds of dirty work.
The miserable cries of those people, to the mercenary chief, is just a beautiful and melodious song, a hymn to her great strength! The helpless gaze of those people, moreover, will not let the gray mane chief, produce the slightest bit of wavering. Those people dripping blood, but also let Gorel understand - in this weak world, she belongs to the side of the strong. She has the right to decide the fate of the defeated!
But - the miserable and desperate wail of the poisonous biting centaur is so piercing at the moment! Let her six limbs are trembling gently. Before her compatriot died, the resignation and despair revealed in her eyes made her two hearts, as if they were clenched by two large hands, sending bursts of heart-wrenching pain. The usually incomparable fragrance of blood, but now the gray mane chief covered his mouth and nose, almost vomiting!
"Chief, are you all right?"
A few gray maned elites who were bathed in blood also developed some confusion and discomfort. Worriedly, they looked in the direction of the chief.
"I'm fine, move on to the next step in the strategy."
Gorel waved her hand and forced her discomfort to continue this bloody civil war. In her plan, the lightly armored troops in the middle, would stick to the enemy's central forces. And the heavily armored men and horses on both flanks, with the magical bombardment of the druids in the sky, would quickly cut through the enemy's two flanks and eventually converge behind the enemy to form a pincer attack. The army, like a heavy iron pincer, and the enemy, between the sharp pincer blade. Let yourself be slaughtered.
Next, his own soldiers, would surround the enemy to death in the center of the battlefield. The warriors of Gray Mane, will charge the enemy from all sides. Step by step, the enemy's survival space, slowly nibble, annihilate their living forces. In such a situation where the enemy is in the back of the stomach, there is no army that can resist for too long.
In the past mercenary career, this method of warfare is almost tried and true. His own horde was responsible for charging and cutting through the enemy's two flanks, while under Anicus, the heavily armored infantry of the 15th Apollo Legion, was responsible for holding the enemy's central main force and advancing step by step.
But - Gorel forgot one thing. Universally 2.3 meters tall and weighing a ton, with fine weapons and armor, with constant training, is indeed a spear of supreme sharpness. It can tear down the defenses of most armies.
But - as the defensive side, they were so far behind the Roman legions, and besides, the 1,000 or so light cavalry had to face an enemy that was as terrifying as they were! It was the elite of the Black Fang, Poison Bite, and Wind Howler elites!
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Chapter 189: Escape from life
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"Now is the time! That murderous mercenary leader has really cut through our battle line and killed all the way to the very back of the line, and at this moment, she can't do anything about what's happening at the front! Everyone, concentrate all the heavily armored soldiers and elites, let's kill them from the front!"
Through a large number of black fang spies sent back information, to Gorel's temper, habits know like the back of their hand Sigrid drew a huge black bow, gathered all the black fangs, ready to break out head-on.
"You girl speaks lightly! As bait, it's my people who are sent to their deaths! Damned ponies!" Looking at the two teams of ironclad heavy horsemen, under the cover of the druid's bombardment, in the poisonous bite army, carved out two gullies of blood and flesh as horrible as hell, Poutresse's teeth were chattering with anger.
However, she also understood that this girl's plan was indeed the best way to go at the moment. They do not have the time, nor the capital, to fight the powerful mercenary leader, head on.
"Do not let the sacrifice of my people be in vain."
The new chief of the poison bite, sullenly turned his head. Turning to his full rage, he vented it on the lightly armored troops of the gray mane in front of him. Putreus' weapon, a long whip with seven tails. The comfortable handle of the whip extended forward, and it was clearly seven slender, flexible ropes, each of which was tied with seven sharp thistles, the sharp metal surface of which shone with an eerie green, highly toxic light.
"Phew--"
Poison Bite Chief's right wrist shakes lightly, accompanied by a chilling sound of breaking air, the seven-tailed poison whip to her palm as the center of the circle, like a windmill rotating away, in the air through seven terrifying arc trajectory.
Putrese seized the opportunity to whip the enemy's left shoulder, forty-nine accelerated rotation, exceptionally sharp poison coated iron spikes, directly tore the gray mane soldier's animal skin clothing, the left shoulder to the chest and abdomen, a large piece of skin, whip the bloody flesh!
The greenish toxin instantly seeped inside the opponent's body through countless blood-soaked wounds, and the soldier weakened by the toxin instantly became dizzy, with a large number of colorful and gorgeous illusions appearing before his eyes. Chief Poison Bite wielded his whip again, this time, the poison soaked seven-tailed whip, sweeping across the opponent's head, and smashing the opponent's face, into a piece of broken and rotten flesh.
"AlanNure Skerritt!!!"
Looking at the disfigured corpse at her feet, a feeling of sadness of hand-to-hand combat also rushed to the heart of Poutresse. But then, it was washed away by the hatred brought on by the death of her father. She roared the name of the centaur deity, and the seven-tailed whip, spinning madly, struck the right hand of the second soldier. The poisonous whip, like seven horrible poisonous snakes, immediately wrapped around the other soldier's wrist, the ropes and poisonous spines tangled irregularly, cutting him to a bloody pulp.
The poisonous bite chief pulled hard, and the poisonous thorns, which were deep inside the wrist, frantically cut the enemy's flesh and blood. The dripping blood gurgled out along the wounds that could not be counted.
The gray-haired soldier let out a miserable cry, the pain and toxin, so he could not hold the blade in his hand, Poutresse's left hand shield, as if a heavy siege mallet, hit the opponent's face hard.
Along with the crisp sound of a broken nose, three or four blood-stained teeth cut a crimson trail through the air.
At the same time, the druids, who have been dormant for a long time, transformed into a head of sturdy eagles, fighting the clouds. The druids, learning from the golden crawlers, are at the top of the enemy's head, declaring the thunder of fury and burning fire. With horrible spells, in the dense enemy formation to clear a pathway of life.
"Hiss..."
A poison bite noble clad in lock armor killed at the forefront of the battlefield, chiseling through the lightly armored troops of the gray mane. Since the long-range release of poison will be dodged by the enemy. They will rely on their sturdy armor, rushing to the enemy's eyelids themselves low, and then towards their hooves, throwing a rising cloud of poison.
The sound of the poisonous gas leaking announcing death, accompanied by the continuous rolling and rising waves of dark green gas, destroying the enemy's will at both the mental and ** levels. In the midst of the poisonous mist, the battle power of the gray mane was horribly weakened, while the allied troops who covered their mouths and noses with wet cloths were not seriously hurt.
Along with the rampant spread of poisonous mist, the neurotoxin of the viper's bite, destroying the body and will of the gray mane.
With the bloodthirsty roar of the beast, the conical short spears with black fangs, tearing at their hearts and necks.
With the earth-shattering howl of thunder, Orakil's blessed blade blasted the flesh and skin of his enemies.
What's even more horrible is that the black fangs, the spies who had been ambushed inside the gray mane for months, finally jumped out! They waved their butcher knives at their partners without warning, and the Grey Mane army was in chaos! Seven or eight black fang spies
---------- ------
"Damn! They tricked us!"
Gorel also reacted at this moment, wielding a shield hand axe, ready to cut through the enemy's line a second time. This time, however, what awaited her was the death-defying resistance of the poisonous bite.
Living in the desert, surrounded by enemies of the poisonous bite centaurs, in order to continue the clan, must support each other, otherwise, the only thing waiting for them is destruction. The characteristic of sacrificing the ego to make the clan is written deep in the genes of almost everyone. Soldiers in the back row, without hesitation, stopped escaping and turned to the enemy.
"Hiss..."
The sky-rushing toxic fog, erupted in the back row of the coalition army, more than two hundred horses volunteered to stay behind, lined up in neat formation in the toxic fog, forging an immortal wall with flesh and blood, blocking more than a thousand elites of the gray mane chief - no one wanted to rush into the toxic fog at their own peril, even the mercenary leaders who were thirsty for blood, did not dare to continue forward.
"Now is the time! Get out of the city! Immediately! We're free!"
Orakil wielded a huge sword entwined with storm and thunder, as if a melon cut vegetables, cut off several gray mane soldiers six limbs of the torso, completely gained control of the gate, covering the spells have long been depleted, a million tired warlock to highlight the siege.
"Great, with the cover of the poisonous fog, they don't dare to kill in, we just need to bypass the Iron Peak Fort and retreat all the way north to get rid of Toria's magic ------"
Sigrid breathed a long sigh of relief, and just as her whole body relaxed, a series of dense sound of horses' hooves, like drums, came from the south! Accompanied by a heavenly battle cry, Tolya personally led the army of golden cushions, and emerged from the south, like a boiling golden wave!
"Move!"
Orakil blemishes want to crack, nearly extinguished clan's deep hatred, let him rage. And the God's chosen descendants of the depths of power. But make the chief warlock's hands and feet cold. The pace of retreat of the allied forces. Also in a panic, become more hasty, chaotic!
"Long live the Supreme King!!!"
The poetic dead stood behind the forbidden army, with their harps, flutes, and even singing throats, singing a pale and majestic prairie battle song, enhancing the various physical abilities of the forbidden army. The toxins in the body, still magically inhibited by the golden masks, also sang the fact that the chosen descendants of God, called the king, like a flood into the dark green poisonous fog, will break the back of the poisonous bite completely drowned.
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Chapter 190: The Dust Settles
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Strong emotions, in the end, could not make up for the huge gap brought about by force and equipment. The Supreme King, whose body shone with four or five magical hues, wielded the battle blade of the Heavenly Calamity, and under the cover of the forbidden army on both sides, he entered like no one else! With the roar of thunder and the wild dance of electric currents, there was not a single human horse that could resist the supreme fronts of the God's Chosen Descendants.
"Toria is here! The chief of the Golden Crawl is rushing to the forefront!"
The poisonous bite with a death wish in mind, in the dense poisonous fog, launched a desperate counterattack. They knew that they were no match for Chief Golden Crawler, but, even if there was only a slight chance of a negligible chance, they wanted to make Toria, for their actions. Pay the price.
The sound of dense hoof beats stretched on and on, and the eerie war cry rang out in the clouds.
The remaining soldiers were like moths to a flame, roaring and rushing in Toria's direction, but the trained Golden Masks, shields raised, stopped the mass of poisonous biting soldiers and held their own king's sides at death's door to avoid the disadvantage of her being caught in a pincer attack or siege.
With the splintering of thousands of electric currents, the cataclysmic battle blade in Toria's right hand swept a dazzling arc through the air, cutting off the enemy's head directly, but more Poison Bite soldiers lunged forward bravely. They took advantage of the gap in the Supreme King's attack to launch an attack.
Three or four sharp spears, wrapped in the owner's endless rage, struck heavily on the full-body armor forged of gold and steel wood, accompanied by a series of mournful sparks, sharp spear points, on the solid armor, striking and colliding with a desperate sound.
The Chosen One looked disdainfully at the "traitor" who had disobeyed her rule, and raised the golden eagle staff in her left hand. The earth, soaked in blood and corpses beneath her hooves, suddenly sprang up hundreds of thick vines, like countless hideous poisonous snakes, winding along the enemy's hooves, binding their flesh and blood bodies and shields and weapons in knots.
"Tom!"
The end of the golden staff struck heavily on the earth. All of a sudden, the earth in front of Toria, issued a horrible muffled sound, have collapsed, depression, like a whirlpool downward sinking, turquoise vines, but also dragged the enemy's flesh and blood body, dragged them down the quicksand of hell!
Five or six horses and men were buried alive in the earth, directly by the king's spell. Only some palms that were raised upwards in despair were revealed.
"Tap, tap."
The Supreme King mercilessly crushed all the stubborn resistance. Suddenly, her movements stalled, as if there was something that blocked her progress.
Toria stared down in confusion. It was a palm, a centaur palm buried alive by quicksand, clutching its front hoof.
Buried alive by the quicksand, the dying soldier grasped the direction of the Supreme King through the vibrations of the mud. He understood that his move would not be able to stop the enemy's front. However, even if he could delay the Golden Crawler for a second, it would allow the rest of the clan, to increase their hope of escape by a fraction.
"It's ------ ridiculous as hell."
The corners of the Supreme King's mouth rose gently as she let out a pitying sneer, accompanied by a cataclysmic boom of lightning and thunder as the bloody wrist was cut in two, by a sharp blade of metal. The divinely chosen descendant shook her front hooves in disgust and shook off the charred, cold, severed hand as if she had thrown away a trivial piece of trash.
---------- ------
"Here she comes! Toria's coming at us!"
The retreating allied troops, looking at the golden and radiant Supreme King, let out a scream of despair.
The narrow tunnel at the north gate, at best, could only allow four horses and men to pass through, side by side, and when the rear line of battle was destroyed by the God's Chosen Descendants as if they were destroying everything, the allied forces had only withdrawn half of their soldiers. Terrifying electric currents, already accompanied by heaven-shattering thunder explosions, at the end of the line, flashing a dazzling light.
Listening to the screams that erupted from the end of the line, Poutresse's heart was breaking. In just one day, the Poison Bite clan had suffered losses that were worse than the past whole year.
As the daughter of Sogros, the brave and fearless warrior, she wanted to kill her way back into the city and fight the damned Supreme King! Kill her, or die by her hand, once and for all.
However, as the chief who shoulders the fate of the entire clan. She must carry the weight for the sake of the remaining clansmen.
The soldiers at the end of the line, calmly turned their bodies to face Toria's golden wave directly, smiling at the arrival of death. They chanted the name of Skerritt's god, and spent the last moments of their lives fighting for the evacuation of their compatriots.
Even if they were knocked down in a pool of blood, they would open their mouths and bite the horses' hooves, hindering their forward progress.
---------- ------
The sky-shattering war cry became more and more decrepit, and the dense poisonous clouds slowly dissipated. The noisy city, along with the western sunset, fell into a dead-like silence. The allied forces paid the price of another third of the soldiers died, leaving the ground full of blood and corpses, fled the seaside city.
The Supreme King, who was stained with blood, did not care, nor did he want to go after them. It is more important to pacify, or suppress, the entire city's population than the remnants of the army. The last traitors in the city. They were also cleansed by the army. All that remained were soldiers, allies, loyal to themselves. And fear of the strength of the Golden Crawler, kneeling in submission to his fellow countrymen.
The Golden Crawler clan, has demonstrated enough power, now it is time to appease these allies and captives and make them grateful to themselves.
Thinking of this, Toria's proud face, quickly changed into a mournful look, and under the ring of allies such as Dead Bones, Grey Mane, and Poetic Dead, she gently removed her bloody mask, as if mourning for the fallen Poison Bite soldiers.
"Bury them generously, these are Skerritt's warriors, fellow soldiers worthy of admiration! They died heroically in battle for what they believed in! They are entitled to a scenic funeral as a final reward.
It's so sad - we are as light as brothers and sisters to each other and should have been working side by side! Together we should have conquered the whole world! But in the end, we took different paths because of our philosophical differences."
God's chosen descendant sat on his knees, hands gently cupped the pale face of a corpse, then hugged his cold body again, incomparably sad to say.
The three tribal allies of the Golden Crawl also fell into deep sorrow at the words of the Supreme King, which were full of incitement.
"Well, I'm not taking any of Wind Howl and Poison Bite's property, livestock, the pastures and land they vacated! All of it to the generals present who fought bravely! The forbidden army! Open my treasury! All soldiers who are willing to serve me will receive my most generous reward!"
"Long live the Supreme King!!!"
Inside the three clans, some soldiers who had long been bought by Toria, immediately pulled their voices and roared loudly! Trying to drive the emotions of the people around them. The others, shocked by her terrifying power, grateful for her generous gift, and moved by her mournful prayer, one by one, struck their shields with spear shafts and axe handles, accompanied by a rather rhythmic sound, and wailed to the sky.
"Long live the Supreme King!!!"
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